Chameleon Stew

Well, it's leaping lizards
And chicken gizzards
In my left over stew
Oh my, what am i to do? ? ?
The chicken gizzard's are tough
The chewing is rough!
The chameleon's have again changed hue
Oh, what am i, to do, with this left over stew? ? ?

poem by Theodora Onken
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Carla Cravens.Com

Do you wanna trip the light fantastic?
Or dance 'til the early morn?
How 'bout cruisin' the streets of Manhatten?
For it is here that a Design Goddess 'tis born;

Raising her star in New York City-
Carla 'tis Texas born and bred-
She is my very own Soul Daughter...!
With her creativity-to Park Avenue she is led;

Her most divine design 'tis splendiferous-
Her set design-a movie directors dream-
A Fashionista and Interior Maven-
I call her Manhattens reigning Queen;

Her name is Carla Cravens-
She has her hands in most every theme-

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poem by Theodora Onken
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come

Longer than forever 'tis eternal-my darling-
Going further past Infinity and then...
I promise you all of my love-beloved-
Let us now commence once and again;

This time there shall be no errors...
No acts of desperate jealousy nor dismay...
Only trust-pure trust enraptured with lust...
Well able to handle what may come our way;

Come to my arms my most beloved...
Come unto my most tender embrace-
Let inhibitions down and get rid of that frown...
Come let me kiss your sweet face;

For it 'tis all well and so very right-my darling-
That we have come together once and again...
Wrapped in a kiss with the promise of true bliss...
Longer than forever-past Infinity-we begin;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Santa Fe Recipes

... Its hotter than a Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
...Sizzling like a Friday Afternoon...
Heated like the Passion of the Summer Sun
...Brillant like the Glow...
When day is near done
...Radiant like the Moon Beams...
On a Once In A Blue moon Night
...Its a rare glistening-scorching...
'Well Done'...Of a afternoon of delight!

poem by Theodora Onken
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Fall, Magnificient Fall

Oh to simply read you-Garrison-

Conjures up masterpieces in my minds eye-

Divine 'tis the Maple Tree (more so even now)

Unbridled passion, flows throughout the Autumns sky;

Oh, the colours that you write of, Garrison-

Golden Yellows to the Blazing Reds...

And of course, Falls Dance of Romance-

And the truth of the masterpieces-oft' ignored, once you're dead;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Trainwreck

...Diligence it served me well?
Shadow waiting tenaciously 'neath your veil
Grasping at straws of needful answers
...Your train-about to derail

..Along the tracks of our yesterdays
Your footprints impression me deep
...A trainwreck of careless happenstance
But-the memories i must keep

...I am needing so much more
The answers to this enigmas's scheme
...Awaiting am i-so very near by
Your reasons for yesterdays miserable scene

poem by Theodora Onken
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Devastation

The swollen river raged
To well over its banks
Swallowing up shoulders
Of Grass
In the late afternoon
Of yesterday
When the sullen skies
Wept a torrent of rain
And the Earth trembled
In near panic
Enduring the strength
Of the winds unforgiving
Gales
Recoiling from the
Infinite thunder
Totally shaken from
The spirals of lightening
And ever so desperate
Trying to adapt to:
The Tempest that is you

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Reputation

Resolute warrior of a dying Mars--
Warring malicious harpy of vile...
Plodding on never heedful...
Portent of superfluous denial;

Cast iron will of semi viscious--
Deluded in your schizophrenic mind...
Well honed your knives of steel...
Psychopathic-atheist-most unkind;

Deranged by all of your rancor...
Willing to believe drug addled lies...
Beating a path to personal slander--
Libel will cut my bitter cries;

Underneath The Umbrella
July,2010

poem by Theodora Onken
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How Do You Want Your Egg?

The Sun blossomed in the East-
As an egg yolk of overpowering size...
Laid upon a plate of deepest blue-
And they call it: 'The Sunrise';

What a reoccuring and amazing miracle...
As the Earth and the Stars do their thing...
In the Early East-A well expected feast...
Dining with the best 'til the West-the blackness brings;

Brightest and perhaps nearly warmest...
'Over easy' at the noontime-
No need for a side of bacon or sausage...
For the picture of this day created this rhyme;

poem by Theodora Onken
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Disguises

I have known but a few
But always recognize who they are
Outstanding in demeanor
Charasmatic society stars;

Dressed in a plethora of attributes
They will charms the socks off of you
One word of caution-not withstanding
When approached-take in their whole view;

For oft' times well hidden
'Neath a mask of goodness and light
Lies the soul of those most driven
By riches and might! ;

Taken to the cleaners
No dry cleaning-do i mean
Swindlers and embezzlers, etc.
Always in search of their almighty green!

poem by Theodora Onken
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Ah, but Sweet Love

Ah, but such bitter sweet power
Your hands thy doth hold
For love to be this heavenly
Or mere memory to be this bold

Frantic, i am with worry
For i am under thy spell
I've found myself engulfed and entwined
In thine most beguiling of wishing wells

I cannot grant thee sweet permission
To stem this fire that burns
For i must be properly asked
Even though bodies doth yearn

So rescue me out of thine well dear sir
And allow for me to be proper and apt
For casual daliances i n'er practice
And this dear sir 'tis a fact

poem by Theodora Onken
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4...

For you it was always one to seek him
For you it was always one to find him
It was always one to reach him
And then one to bind him!
It was a secret: 'Heart To Heart'
Where you became: Forever One?
And so you thought...
It CAN be done?
What were you thinking?
In your drug clouded mind?
Being behind bars twisted you
Into someone very unkind
Your breaking the law
And chronic use
Turned you into
A Monster of Abuse
Running away from your home state
And starting over again?
Well whats up D.O.C.?
Are you going back to the pen?

poem by Theodora Onken
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my Stalker Has Returned

...Got my stalker back, YEP, its true...
...Under a new and fancy pen name...-
...He thinks that hes ' cute and clever'
...And that he'll get no blame;

...He knows pretty much 'our set up'-
...Speaks of the wall of veneer...-
...That would be the dividing wall...-..
...Between the eye and here;

...Mentioned The Spider! ! !
...Mentioned The Attic! ! !
...Now we are here to tell you all...-
...That Our Stalker Is Back-
...Delivering 'His Static'! ! !

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poem by Theodora Onken
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~Spring Cleaning~

Shaking out dirty rugs
That cover the earth eaten floor
Dusting the cathedral beams
That reach for heaven's door
Cant quite get it all
Fevered pitch to faraway heights
Tall ceilings in my den pretend
The dust has misted in flight
Shine upon the tables glaze
Clean reflections bent
Cleaning-clearing and polishing
Spotless-time- well spent
Carpeting link that floats the sky
Vacuum packed it twice
Spot remove-the black eyed groove
That dirties this carpetless prize
Spring cleaning on into June
With bleached out whale bones
Hanging from yonder oak paneling
Sparkling clean crystal gold tones!

poem by Theodora Onken
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Sowers-Reapers

Sodden path of Destiny
Guides out spirits fruits
As seedlings planted in
The ground
We growing more astute

The privilege garnered
By Fate
During our eduacational time
Opening our Blind eyes
Once again to see
There is reason for our rhymes

Gathering we a Starling-singing
His song of ancient history's reverie
And all the wisdom contained
Inside this most informative melody

Shall stir our gentle spirits free
To travel again upon the path of Destiny

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Aesthetically Atheist?

You carry yourself so well--
Broad shoulders of almost steel---
Standing tall through it all...
But with a heart that is unable to feel! ;

I often wonder what it is like--
To go through life nearly numb...
To be so apathetic and indifferent...
But with high intelligence-certainly not dumb;

Life in the deep freeze: 'of could care less'--
The robotic movements that carry your day...
A writer, an artist, a Bohemian...
With very clever steps in the games that you play;

Oh, those that you do raise up on a pedestal...
Are chilly, unique and oft' a bit odd---
But perhaps there is a reason for your choice of seasons!
Is it that they also-do not believe in Our God? ;

poem by Theodora Onken
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Soured

Filled to the full of enuff yet
Deluged by after thoughts;
Tantilizing memories of
Affluent days of erotica;
Amazed at the total-
Inexplainable need of closure!
Decadence reared its ugly head...
Pushed its way through-
Well hidden corridors-
Of delusional minds of a sanguine-
Persona lying empty now;
In retrospect-
I re-evaluate my options-
As the adrenalin pours-
And my blood pressure soars-
To new heights-
Taken off the cuff;
Once a much heated dalliance-
Turned serious for about-
That long-now sour!

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poem by Theodora Onken
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Solutions

The evening wrapped herself
Neatly around my inquisitive mind
Dimming somewhat
The well-used Sun-light of day
My all-inclusive search light
For the answers
To the questions
Enigma's that have weighed
Ever heavy upon my
Usually keen psyche
Answers are not forthcoming
As they toy with my sensibilities
Playing hide and seek
With my mind
Skipping around the gist of the matter
Going around in circles
Loosing me in a quagmire
Of who, why and where
The Moon is of no help
Hidden behind clouds

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poem by Theodora Onken
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And A Happy Fathers Day To You

In the twinkling of an eye you appeared...
From out of nowhere or so it seemed-
Walking in to my turned upside down world...
Tell you darlin'-it was surreal-just like a dream;

You swept me off of my feet-yes you did...!
So taken i couldn't decipher black from white-
You melted my heart-and became a crucial part...
You rescued me from my long dark night;

How many years later we're still together?
Through: 'ALL OF OUR ROLLER-COASTERS WAYS'?
Tomorrow is your day to celebrate-
So with our child-may you have: The Best Fathers Day;

And you might as well know...
That i am celebrating tomorrow-also-you see-
For we have made it this far-through scratches and scars...! ! !
Know in my heart- now- we're definately meant to be;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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West Twenty-Fifth Street

My address 'tis 41 West 25th Street-
I am living my dream in New York State...
'Tis my very own: 'Show Place'...
My 'Gracious Home'-my fate;

In my younger years i shopped-
For baby furniture and teen as well-
I would go next door to: 'Scneiders'
And i only bought the best that they had to sell;

Life in New York City can be quite hectic...
'Tis so easy to get caught in the fray...
In the Hub-Bub of this busy city...
But 'tis a city where: 'Samuel French Plays';

They say that the Big Apple 'tis so huge...
But really if you know where you're going- i disagree-
Actually we are closer than you think- darlin'-
Why even Newark 'tis close to me;

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poem by Theodora Onken
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